The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1887-01-16

said Aunt Jane, as the door closed, land there
was something in her voice like Helena's, too
Didn't know he had downtown office, l
suppose, and she does seem weak. declare /
don't see how Annabel wears such holes in her
stockings and she never setting her foot to the
eround I wonder if it can be possible that
Bridget wears them herself the odd weekg'
The study opened from the flower room, empty
now but once bright little spot Of gay chintzes,
and roses, and oleanders and palms, and camel
las It seemed as If Bridget was never coming
out. Any one might hear this heart beat like
the hammers Of a forge. It would be dark
presently, and she must be going Not
once did she think of breaking off that mar
riage. If she could make it, he could keep it.
Perhaps he was happier so; she would not add
to his troubles by reappearing on the scene; and
then there was the little lad. She sank upon
seat in the lonely place, and her arms fell
straight across her knees. with her head between
them It was despair That little lad was the
keenest blow of all-he must needs love his own
child!-and it was hers, that other woman's.
All, how cruel was fate. was Nature, was God
There was nothing for her but obiteration, eff
facement, humiliation Of all that made life.
Dtmly under all the pang was feeling that
she would like to see that little lad.
At last Bridget went out, by the outer study
door, into the garden, and SO away. There was
. movement of q chair drawn to a table. Of q
curtain pushed up for light. She was hardly
acting with volition now, but as il necessity had
taken hold of har. She dropped her hood and
cloak and stole into the study, where the last
western light lay noiselessly, for Leonard's back
was turned, and fell upon a chair that would be
opposite him when he should turn again. He
slightly wheeled his chair about Oh pivot, still
looking at the paper in his hand How grave
he was; how pale; how still. All the old fire
had gone all the old light and laughter. He
was silent, full of reserves. conterted, it might
be, but with gaps of bitter memories, one would
say. And beautiful-beautiful as even in his
proudest youth! Giving his life in small ways
to others now-what better could she herself dot
Perhaps she had no blame for him, but she had
lost him--he had gone away from>her forever,
forever.
She turned her profile lying half to the light
that came full upon 1t; the rustic made him
glance up. Fora moments thrill throb-he
eszed on her. stone still, as If a cataclysm had
feet and started back in kind of horror
"Helenaw he cried, in voice of agony
She, too,sstood up. He was holding out his
arms to her with a great sob It seemed as if q
| she only turned her cheek. Eat least, he said
| .'at least may take you in my arms again.
And as suddenly and impetuously he released
her. walking to the window. When he turned
| she was gone.
I'VE have seen ghost said Aunt Jane, tina,
| midnight, after ali the quiet search. But
think that Leonard Vance knew whether he had
| seen ghost not.
| Three weeks from the day she slipped through
the asylum gates near the city on the French coast
the woman in the long cloak and big blue
| hood walked ins again-is it was the same
woman. Her long black hair was as white as il
ashes had been sifted over it. Ashes had beer
sifted over 1.-THE ashes Of dead happiness.
| never knew any more about her. in her life O
effacenent unless the subjoined paragraph in
foreign journal had reference to her:
At The confagraton occurring last week in the Asy
lum Of Our Lady of the Suffering Heart the loss o
life would have been appalling but for the presence
mind of one of the attendants It seems that whe1
| the fire broke out the widest panic seized tn
| unfortunate inmates, and all would have newt
ably persisted in the flames. had not this attendan
| Of whom We speak suddenly begun sing He
| clear and soprano voice-a voice that seemed t.
those assisting at the prodgious spectacle sweete
than anything heard earth-rose over the stu
pendous uproar as the singer stood quite still il
| che center, of the main hall with the roo
| ready to fall in till the wretched people ha
gathered about her. when still singing
she quietly led them out into safety. Whether thi
attendant Is retired prima donna assoluta with
| history whether merely simple person caring 70
the insane is not known But she is TO be placed a
once in responsible position at the head Of the fl
| male wards of the new asylum in the performance 0
the sad duties to whichshe has devoted her life.
But it has seemed to me that in the career o
this simple country doctor, there was somethlr,
more than the sorrow Of man who had lost tn
wife of his youth, and had by and bSl6tnarrie
again-there was a tragedy as if The stars ha
crashed together and extinguished the light Q
heaven.
THE END.l